


too much left unsaid

by badabeebadaboo



Series: Autumn Days [2]
Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Angst, Developing Relationship, Falling Apart, Friendship/Love, Hurt, Hurt No Comfort (yet), M/M, Misunderstandings, Romance (kinda), Sad, Unspoken words, argument, frustrated leorio and annoyed kurapika, its gonna be okay I promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:34:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25899751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badabeebadaboo/pseuds/badabeebadaboo
Summary: “What do you mean, this is not working out?”“Pika, don't tell me you haven't noticed.”They try to talk about it, but communication is not their forte.
Relationships: Kurapika/Leorio Paladiknight
Series: Autumn Days [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1878511
Comments: 8
Kudos: 26





	too much left unsaid

**Author's Note:**

> !!! a huuuge thanks to the wonderful [eli](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kufe/pseuds/kufe) for beta reading this, and for being super awesome and kind and cool and lovely! thank u for being there, talking to you is always soo much fun :) 
> 
> now enjoy this angsty something, and if you haven't already, go check out eli's writing, they're amazing and the effort they put into their work is just incredible!

The flickering of the dull white lighting above the kitchen table had been pulling on Leorio's nerves for several weeks now, yet somehow he didn't find the energy nor the motivation to actually fix it. In the back of his head, if he'd be truly honest with himself and finally admit it, he had already planned out a rough idea on how he could fill his apartment up with a friendly kind of warmth, but he had decided to constantly push those thoughts back from where they came from. Why? They didn't feel right yet.

He leaned back in the creaking fold-up chair and eyed the plastic lampshade.

It just didn't feel right to surround oneself with comfort, when he was madly worrying about someone who had always been linked to his ideas. Someone with whom wanted to share his kitchen cutlery, someone whom he wanted to rant to at 2 am while eating take out, about the stupid, broken, lamp, someone for whom he'd (attempt to) make hot chocolate for when the heater would break on a cold autumn day. Not someone who would light-headedly throw themselves into an emotionally-driven knife fight. Someone who would wordlessly disappear the morning after falling asleep on the living room couch, limbs intertwined and then harshly broken apart, repeatedly. He understood, understood that these two someones would always flow into one. It was not in his right to separate, no matter how beneficial that would be for everyone . 

He also noticed that the current table would probably need a replacement too. His restless knee bumped against the underside every other second. He found himself carelessly fiddling with his phone, unlocking and checking the time in frequent intervals. It seemed to him like hours had passed, yet it was only a few minutes. 'He'll be back by nine,' he assured himself, 'He promised.' 

But Leorio had agreed. Oh, he had agreed so long ago, he had agreed and promised himself to care, and help, and let them in again. To shelter them from the cold, to sometimes not ask questions but to simply hold them. And when he let them go, on lonely days, he tried to keep his mind focused on work, and volunteered for extra shifts. Hoped that studying would distract from the headache of wondering, and he had to be careful not to lose track of his own dreams. No matter the size of his heart, he had to respect his own limits. Often, he would stay awake late or pull all-nighters, telling himself that it would only boost his studies, but silently holding on to the hope of a phone call. And of course, he waited. God, he had waited so much he began to despise the word.

A short message lit up on the screen. 

**_8.55pm_ **  
**_Kurapika:_ ** _I apologize. I'll be home in 40, do we need anything from the store?_

It was always fun, seeing his friend having difficulties switching his texting style from work to casual. Maybe he decided to text back too fast, maybe it was the excitement of seeing 'we' instead of 'you', maybe it was a reflex. 

**_8.56pm_**  
**_Me:_** _'s okay_  
**_Me:_** _maybe milk if you stop by anyway_  
**_Me:_** _if not then come home_

**_9.01pm_**  
**_Me:_** _drive carefully_

Forty minutes would be enough to prepare something edible. Considering his friend's eating habits, a gut feeling told Leorio that today had not been a day where he paid much attention to self-care. Pushing back the unstable chair (damn the dollar store, but wait, no, bless it, he was a college student after all), Leorio made his way to the fridge. He sorted out the few ingredients available after placing down his phone once making sure he hadn't missed any messages. Silly, he thought, shaking his head, and started searching for a fitting pot to fill with water.

**_9.10pm_ **  
**_Kurapika:_** _Thank you._  
**_Kurapika:_** _:)_

By the time he heard a familiar, yet not familiar enough, sound of keys fiddling with the lock, he was sitting back at the Ikea table and staring in front of him. He craned his head to get a better look at the person coming in, relaxing slightly as he saw them unbutton their coat and place their shoes aside. At least there were no visible or urgent injuries. His eyes followed Kurapika, quickly checking for any signs of discomfort or pain. The blond was still wearing the clothes he left in, but the black turtle-neck underneath the suit did not seem to suffocate them any longer. His hair had lost its volume, yet the single red earring was shining as hopeful as ever. Leorio knew that he was forcing himself to appear put together, that something concerning the eyes had probably happened, but it should not be talked about right now. He kept his mouth shut, but remained determined to have this conversation now, as now was one of the rare occasions when they saw each other at a rather reasonable time.  
“You okay?”, he asked, nodding softly, with a voice that usually got the truth out of the other. Kurapika nodded back, smiling earnestly.  
“Me okay.”  
He watched the other pull a carton of milk out of his bag and place it in the fridge, then walk towards the table, tidying up one or two packages, which Leorio had forgotten to put away, on his way, and threw them in the garbage. Exhaustion visible, he let the suit slide off his shoulders before hanging it on the back of the second chair, opposite of Leorio, carefully smoothing out the wrinkles. Hands pressed on the back of the chair, he rolled back and forth on his feet, facing Leorio with a tight smile. Suddenly, he stopped, eyes jumping to the inconsistent light, back to Leorio, back to the light.  
“You've got to change that”, he snickered, continuing his little game of rolling on his heels and back. Those moments were rare and valuable, and Leorio knew that he was the only one who got to see this side of him, this part of his soul which was still touched with innocent warmth and hints of childhood joy.  
“I will.”  
“It will get on your nerves.”  
“It does.” 

He hated being the one to break the silence, the one to shorten these brief moments of peace, but he wanted to face the vicious circle, and it would take a lot of communication, and it had to have a bitter beginning, maybe even a more bitter ending, but not trying would just continue to needlessly tear up his heart.  
Kurapika eyed the rest of the room, holding still at the sight of the pot on the stove. Leorio's voice was raspy when he spoke up.  
“I've made soup.”  
“No, thanks”, he frowned.  
“Come on, I know you haven't eaten today.”  
“How did you-”  
“I know you well enough, Pika. Now do me and your body a favour and _eat_.”  
He got a last lingering look before an exhaled, “Fine. Thank you.”  
Success. An easy one this time, his friend really was in one of his better moods today. (Leorio refrained from mentioning “good moods”, knowing that those stopped existing a long time ago and were either extremely rare, or only appeared in form of an uncontrolled laugh and lit up eyes. He also feared to jinx it, wondering when the inner storm would eventually win over).  
Eloquent hands fished two small bowl out of the cupboard, filled them both and set them down on the table, skeptically eyeing its stability. Then he sat down too, legs bumping against Leorio's once, before meeting the other's troubled gaze. 

“It's good.”, he said while stirring around in the bowl. He brought a spoonful of the liquid to his mouth and softly blew on it to cool it down, eyes focused but relaxed. It was relieving, seeing him like that.  
“When did you learn to cook?”, he pointed the spoon at the soup and then at Leorio, “I thought broke college students usually barely survive on instant noodles and second-day pizza, especially medical ones.”  
“Yeah, college students who don't have selfless, malnourished idiots who can't look out for themselves popping in every other week, or month.” 

Kurapika swallowed hard and his playful expression fell. He might have hit a painful spot there, but it would be easier to start the conversation this way. 

“I apologize if I'm an inconvenience to you, Leorio, I didn't realize.” He quietly put his spoon aside, next to the blue engraved bowl. Leorio followed his movements, slightly regretting to have let his tongue slip like that, but also annoyed at the misperception. One of the engraved lines on the bowl was off, he observed now, and it was freaking him out.  
“That's not what I meant.”  
“Well, clearly, you meant something. I apologize.”  
“I just, uh...”, he suddenly couldn't find the right words to start with what he wanted to talk about. His throat tightened. “Listen, can we talk about this?”  
“About what?”  
This provoked a confused look on Leorio's face, and a light shaking of his head.  
“Don't you get it?” Kurapika's brow twitched at these words, and he blinked.  
“Don't I get what, if I may ask?”  
“That this is not working out!”  
The silence that followed felt unbearably hot, and cold right after. They stared at each other, the one with both hands on the table, mouth half-open, the other unsure of how to react.  
“What do you mean, this is not working out?”  
“Pika, don't tell me you haven't noticed.”  
“Noticed what?”  
“Pika…”  
“Get to the point, Leorio.”  
“For f- I would! If you’d be as helpful as to have a proper conversation with me.”  
“Fine”, he said with a scoff, voice cold, crossing his arms and leaning back in the chair, “let's talk then.”  
“That's all I ever wanted...” Leorio muttered under his breath, looking around the room and leaning back as well.  
“What was that?”  
“Nothing. I-”  
“I asked what you just said.” His eyes were focused on Leorio, who sighed heavily and finally met them just as sternly.  
“I said that that's all I ever want from you. To talk.”  
“We talk all the time, in fact, there's no one I talk more to than-”  
“No, Kurapika, you know what I mean.”  
Unfortunately, he did. And he let out a deep exhale, crossing his legs.

“What do you want to know?”  
“What I want to know? You're seriously asking me what I wanna know? Hell, Kurapika, everything. What you do every day when I have my nose stuck in my books, how much danger you find yourself in daily, what I can do to help-” 'What kind of curtain material you like best, what your favourite pattern on the bedding looks like, what colour of walls you prefer.', he thought.  
“Leorio, there is nothing I can tell you that you don't already know. I'm retrieving the eyes, working for the Nostrade family and managing out a revenge plan.”  
“Gee, thanks.”  
“What? What else do you want from me?”  
“I want you to stop, for a second! I want you to forget all of it for a minute and, and focus on _yourself!_ ” He had sat up straight and gestured around his head. It might have looked silly, but it got the point across.  
“Forget? Excuse me, did you say forget?”, now it was Kurapika's turn to straighten his back and pointing his thumb to his chest.  
“Look. Imagine. What will happen after you finish everything, Kurapika, hm?”  
“I- I don't know. I'll see when the time comes.”  
“You don't even think about that, do you.”  
“Leorio, how could I, I face death, every, single day!”  
“I do too, Kurapika.”  
“Oh, come on!” he yelled, disbelief framing his face. Usually, their years of knowing each other turned out to be beneficial, in multiple situations. They had learned to communicate stories, emotions and feelings only with looks, undecipherable to anyone else. Not even Gon and Killua got it right every time, no matter how hard they tried, it all normally ended in laughter and misunderstandings. But especially in situations of stress, where others would fail to act appropriately, a single meeting of eyes would solve all questions, convey all worry or reconcile all arguments. Now, however, this bond seemed to crumble. Malfunction. Be disturbed by something. Heck, they both got scared at how they were just staring at blank hatred in each other's eyes, not seeing any deeper meaning. Of course it was there, just not visible. 

“Well at least I haven't killed anybody!”  
“At least I have the nerve to think about my friends and how I can protect them in between!”  
“ _Protect?!?_ You're thinking about _protecting_ us?!?”  
“Well, _yes_!” he said, shaking, but accentuating every letter as if that would prove his point.  
“So- so what you're saying is”, Leorio put the sides of his hands on the table and stumbled over his own words, “What you're saying is, that you make it easier for us – scratch that – for me!, when isolating yourself from everyone and pretending like you don't care – and I'm actually starting to believe you really don't! Doesn't – doesn't any of this mean anything to you? Is this just a game, that you play in between? Coming here, talking to me like we've seen each other every day, and then leaving again because you get bored?”  
“ _Bored?!?_ You don't understand a thing about why I leave, or why I keep you away!”  
“Well make me, then, or stop coming back!” 

Something in the back of Kurapika's eyes shifted, and the words hung freely in the air. Three words that had the power to shatter every progress that had been made. Three words that were instantly regretted, that held so much more unspoken ones behind, and that were false, so clearly false, but whose impact had distanced the two miles away from each other. None of them dared to breathe, dreading the next movement, only the flickering of the lamp indicating a flash of life. 

“Kurapika, I'm so so-”  
“So you want me to leave?”  
It was a voice that Leorio never had heard in him before. Or, maybe he did, but it was never directed at him. He felt a burning sensation at the back of his throat, wishing for nothing more than to have the ability to turn back time to only seconds ago. Unwillingly, he let his head fall, shaking, and threaded his fingers together, knuckles turning white as he silently fought back against the shock he had caused himself.  
He only looked back up how a scared deer when he heard the squeak of the metallic chair opposite of him. Kurapika had a blank look on his face, possibly fighting back tears too, but Leorio knew he was way more skilled in that. And they both were holding up too much of their pride to cry in this. 

“I understand.” Kurapika started in an almost inaudible voice while folding up his blazer. “I'm very sorry to have been a burden to you, it was selfish and ignorant of me. I relied on you thoughtlessly and took your care for granted, and I respect your wish, you shall not hear from me, anymore. Farewell, Leo-”  
“No!”, was all he could manage, for now. He would not let him slip away again, when his grip had almost solidified. Deep breath, come on, you idiot.  
“No. Please, don't leave. No, I'm on my knees, I take it back, a million times, you don't have to tell me a thing, just - stay.”  
Kurapika stared at him, one hand propped on the back of the chair but his body kept controlled, as if prioritizing keeping his distance as Leorio stood up and leaned forward, stretching to him.  
“Are you clinically insane or just incredibly annoying?”  
“I don't know, probably both.”  
A bitter scoff escaped his lips. “Stay or leave, huh? Well what do you want, Leorio?”, he asked, almost provocative.  
“I swear. I won't do anything you don't want, but don't leave me. It'll kill me all over again.”  
“And why should I believe that?”  
“Because you're my friend and I love you.”  
“I don't care!”, he screamed, backing away defensively. His sleeves were pulled over his hands as he tried to grip anything, any part of his clothing. “You know what? Fine. I've had enough too, you know. Every time I stand up there, facing someone who is an inch away from killing me in an abandoned alley, surrounded by I don't know how many enemies, I think of _you_ , and pray to _every single God_ that they don't know about you, and that they won't use _this_ ”- he gestured angrily between the both of them - “to their advantage, and – don't _you_ pray too?”  
“I don't know,” Leorio shrugged, hiding the truth. “Sometimes I pray for patience. Sometimes I just pray for a gun.”  
A mouthed 'oh' formed on Kurapika's lips, his brows lifted, but eyes filled with disgust. He lifted a pointing finger at Leorio, chains warningly forming around his wrist.  
“I'm tired. Of you, of this. First you want me to talk, then to leave, then you beg me to stay- make up your damn mind. I don't know what you want-”  
“I don't know what you want either-!”  
“Oh fuck off, already.”  
“This is pointless, we're going in circles!”  
“No, Leorio, _you_ are. And you've got to sort that out. I'll stay the night, then I'll leave. Oh, I'll find a place to stay, if that's what you're worried about.” 

Shit. He had fucked up, and fucked up bad. Kurapika didn't turn to give him one last look, but took his bag and headed towards the guest room, door slamming shut. He didn't leave, but something about his silent presence was even worse than that. Leorio was left helpless in midst of two soup bowls and endless possibilities of how the evening could have gone.The lamp above the table flickered again to call him back to reality.

**Author's Note:**

> communication is key, guys 
> 
> yea okay i'm sorry  
> however I'm thinking about maybe making this a three-part series? lmk if that's something that would sound cool to you!  
> also this is the first time i've tried writing an argument, so there's that heh  
> as always, we love improvement, so criticism and comments are very much appreciated and welcomed :)  
> (repost)


End file.
